"I am not poor," he cried; "I am the son of a prince; and more than a prince--I am Michael Angelo; and a greater than Michael Angelo! I see them coming in moving crowds, singing hymns in praise of the immortal Antonio; bearing flowers, twining garlands, to adorn and encircle the wonderful creations of the divine Antonio! Do you hear? do you hear! There! there!" From the broad village street there rose up the confused, tumultuous cry of the people, who had been alarmed at the news of the advancing flood, and were hastening to the scene of the catastrophe; from the tower of the neighbouring church there rang out, broken by the storm, the clang of the bells, now threateningly near, and again in trembling distance. "Do you hear!" cried the maniac. "Do you hear?" He stood with outstretched arm, smiling; his eyes, lighted with joy and triumph, fixed upon Ferdinanda, who gazed in terror at him. Suddenly the smile changed to a fearful grimace, his eyes glared with deadly hatred, his outstretched arm was withdrawn with a shudder, his hand convulsively clutched at his breast, as immediately under the window a voice rose, clear and commanding, above the raging of the storm and the shouts of the crowd: "A rope, a strong rope--the longest that you have got! And thinner cord--as much as possible. There are some people there already! I shall be there before you!" A hasty step, taking three or four stairs at once, came up the creaking staircase. The maniac laughed wildly. The landlady, too, had heard the clear voice below, and the hasty step on the stairs. There would be an accident, for sure, if the gentleman came in now, when that strange, disagreeable man was with the lady! She burst into the room at the moment when the gentleman opened the door on the other side. Uttering a howl of rage, and brandishing high his stiletto, Antonio rushed upon him. But Ferdinanda had thrown herself between them before Ottomar could cross the threshold, shielding her lover with outspread arms, offering her own bosom to the fatal thrust, and falling without a groan into Ottomar's arms, as the murderer fled past them in cowardly, mad flight at sight of the crime that he had never intended, and that had broken through the night of his insanity as if by a flash of lightning--fled down the stairs, through the crowd below, who had been summoned by the clang of the alarm-bell and the cries of terror of the hasty passers-by from the tap-room and all parts of the house, and who now drew back in terror from the stranger with the wild black hair, brandishing a knife in his hand--out into the village street, overthrowing all that came in his way in the confused, shrieking, shouting crowd without--out into the howling darkness! And "Murder, murder!" "Stop him!" "Stop the murderer!" rang through the house. CHAPTER XIII. "Heavens and earth!" cried the Neuenfähr man, "I must go in here! One moment, sir!" and he ran into the house.